Glimpses of Camelot
by Arisprite
Summary: A catch all for my short snippets about Merlin,  Arthur and all the rest. Humour to angst and all in between. Rating will vary from K to  T.  No slash. New Chapters: Energetic
1. Freedom

Title: Freedom

Author: Arisprite

Rating: T for slight implications of suicidal thoughts. But not really.

Summary: On the day he was to be named Court Sorcerer, Arthur found Merlin atop the highest ledge in the city, rambling about birds.

A/N: So here is my drabble/ficlet/oneshot/miniature story catch all. I have a few of these already written, and will be updating them when I get the chance. They aren't drabbles technically, since I paid no attention at all to word count, but there you go. Just snippets. Let me know if you like them, and if you want more!

197. Freedom  
>Merlin sat upon the upper ledge of the city wall, one leg hanging off the drop, and the other hugged to his chest. He was looking out over the city, Camelot, his home for years. Never before had it looked so inviting, even on that first day, coming over the ridge from his home, his naive eyes taking in the amazing sight. For today, King Arthur would name him Court Sorcerer, and all the troubles and cares he'd lived under for so long were gone.<p>

Well, if not gone, different. He still protected Arthur from harm, but no longer was it from the shadows, with no recognition. His life was still busy, still stressful and occasionally mad and painful. But he wasn't struggling to do it all alone, not hiding himself from those closest to him. Now he was noticed in the streets, by peasants and nobles alike. People of all walks of life praised his name, and knew of his deeds in the path to bring Arthur to this point. His destiny, Arthur's destiny, being fulfilled before his very eyes. It awed him.

"Merlin?" The voice of his King came from behind him.

"Sire," Merlin greeted, not turning.

"What are you doing up here?" Arthur sounded slightly nervous of the fact that Merlin was basically hanging off the top of the tallest structure in sight. Merlin hid a smile.

"Don't worry, Arthur. If I fall, I can just turn into a bird." Merlin murmured, nonsensically. He wasn't sure what he was feeling today, but it made his tongue loose, free in a way it never had been before.

"Can you do that?" Arthur asked, coming closer, and settling on the ledge next to him, though he kept his feet firmly on the ground, his back to the open space. Merlin shrugged.

"I've never tried it."

Arthur chuckled, but it was to hide his fear. Merlin knew he was making him nervous. Made him nervous; his powers, so great, and unknown had been a lot for Arthur to take in.

"Well, perhaps today isn't the best day to try it."

Merlin turned to Arthur, a smile filling his face, so great he couldn't contain it.

"Arthur, if there were ever a day to fly, today would be it."

Arthur met Merlin's shining eyes, and finally, _finally_ understood.

I hope you liked!


	2. Poison

Title: Poison

Author: Arisprite

Summary: The aftermath of a betrayal

A/N: Here is the second ficlet :) I have a few more, so I'll probably be putting them up every couple of days. Thanks for reviewing the last one, those who did. And to **Mymmy, **I haven't actually seen that movie, though I seem to remember the phrase, once you said it, from a commercial or something. :) It is very similar, so maybe it was unconscious.

282. Poison

Merlin scooped up the water flask on his way out of the throne room, ignoring Arthur's calls, and Uther's demands to know what was going on. The king only woken moments before, and Merlin knew that Arthur would be looking for an explanation. What had happened, where had Morgause taken Morgana? Merlin couldn't answer any of these questions, not now.

The water sack was heavy in his hand, and seemed to burn in his grasp, as if the deadly liquid inside was somehow seeping out, and eating away at his flesh.

The deed he'd done ate at his mind in a similar fashion.

Somehow, he kept the images from over taking him, the flashes of Morgana's panicked, betrayed, knowing eyes meeting his, her trembling, dying in his arms, at his hands. They stayed back in his mind, while he ran through the castle, not stopping until he reached a deserted waste drain.

_Get rid of the evidence_

He poured the poisoned water down the hole, where no one else could be hurt or killed by it. Then a whiff of the hemlock floated up, filling his nose, recalling that moment where he'd pretended to drink to lull Morgana into take the flask from him, and causing her death.

Merlin gagged, bile rising up in the back of his throat. His stomach convulsed, and then he was emptying the meagre contents of his stomach into the drain along with the poison, mixing with it. There was no difference.

Poison in his soul, poison in the water.


	3. Touch

Title: Touch

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Arthur wasn't good with personal contact, not in any way that wasn't a punch or hit.

A/N: A short one this time, but one I rather like. I do not own. Not meant to be slash.

071. Touch

Arthur was not a man of feelings, or hugs or anything else that could be classified under "girlish", at least when there were not actual girls present. Oh, he often had quite capably give Morgana a comforting hug when she woke from her nightmares, years before, and he rather enjoying kissing Gwen, but aside from that, touch was something slightly foreign to him. The only exception came from hits, pounds and slaps (affectionate or otherwise) from other men the same as him; fighters, knights, or in rare occasions, his father.

So, seeing Gaius so easily and naturally embrace Merlin when he needed comfort, patting his back, perhaps with a steady hand to his hair; seeing Gwaine give Merlin a firm hug when he was nearly killed on the quest-that-he-was-totally-alone-on, seeing the touches from various womenfolk of the castle, pats, caresses, and even pinches to the cheek; Arthur had quite a hard time not feeling a tiny bit jealous, that touch was something that came so easily to Merlin, when it never had to him.

And when Merlin returned _alive,_ miraculously spared from the Dorocha's touch (one touch he did not want to experience) Arthur wanted nothing more than to pull the younger maninto a hug, much like Gwaine had in the Fisher King's tower. The other knights had done it. But Arthur wasn't good with touch, and somehow he couldn't make his arms come up, encircle, grip. It wasn't until awkward greetings had been made that even one would obey, sliding around Merlin's neck, feeling the warmth, the life there. Relief made his heart lighter than it had been for days, since that feast where this had all seemed to start, with Merlin collapsing. Merlin was alive, and Arthur, though he could not touch easily, was feeling Merlin's beating heart through Arthur's exposed wrist, pressed against his neck. And it was enough.


	4. New Year

Title: New Year

Author: Arisprite

Summary: The past year had been hard. Set after the end of season 2.

A/N: I'm uploading two tonight, cause I'm in a bad mood, and making readers happy, makes me happy :) Still don't own!

023. New Year

It was a few months after everything: dragon's release and subsequent attack, the disappearance of the Lady Morgana, and the death of Merlin's father, and it was the first time Merlin had felt he had time to sit and _breathe_.

The first few weeks after everything had settled had been busy with repairs and restocking the food stores, which meant long days of labour, and hunting after which Merlin fell into bed with no thoughts in his exhausted brain. After that, Uther had been consumed with locating Morgana, and so the knights, Arthur and he were sent on quest after quest, following bare leads with no success.

But now it was the dead of winter, and Merlin wished again for the mindless weeks of hard work, in lieu of the hours he had to think now.  
>There never was much to do in the winter; the snow kept most everybody indoors, aside from the odd snowball fight. Arthur's duties for him were less, since he didn't train outdoors, nor go hunting. This left him restless, and contemplative when he had no desire at all to be so.<p>

Some days all he thought of was Freya, and her sweet love; her death pained him more than anything he'd ever felt before.

Other days, it was guilt that ate at his heart, of the Lady Morgana's wide eyes, shining with pain and betrayal. Merlin could still feel her in his arms, convulsing in the throes of the poison he'd given her.

And some days, the bitter gift of meeting his father, and then losing him after a single day weighed on his heart. It was the cruelest fate that he was taken from him, and Merlin grieved for him, out of the watch of Arthur and Gaius.

It had been a hard year, that was an understatement.


	5. Earth

Title: Earth

Author: Arisprite

Summary: "The nobles really had no idea." Merlin helps with spring cleaning.

A/N: So I kind of adore a day in the life type moments, where Merlin actually has to do his chores, and Arthur actually has to run the country, filling out paperwork and the like. So this happened. I still don't own Merlin. *tear*

088. Earth

The nobles really had no idea, did they? Merlin roughly pushed the cloth across the floor, letting the dirty water spread, and wincing at the harsh smell of the soap. Every spring it was the same. Arthur and the knights burst out of the castle after a long winter's enforced rest, eager to beat each other with sticks and ride their horses until the mud was so thick upon them, that they were unrecognizable. Afterwards, he and the other servants spent the day cleaning the floors, for mud spread everywhere they stepped, until one couldn't walk down the halls in the castle without fear of slipping.

Merlin hated this time of year, for it was a time of blisters stinging in the warm water, and the feel of the soap seemingly eating away at his flesh. It was a time of attempting to keep muddy feet from tramping over a morning's hard work, and a time of chilly knees and elbows, perpetually damp from the sloshing buckets.

And Arthur and the other nobles had no idea. All they cared about was that the floors weren't dangerous with wet mud, and that they didn't trip up over scrubbing servants.  
>Merlin knelt on the floor, watching dirty footprints appear behind the retreating prince, his ears ringing from the reprimand to "watch where he stuck his bony legs so people don't trip on them", and sighed.<p> 


	6. Rainbow

Title: Rainbow

Author: Arisprite

Summary: There was a game Aithusa liked to play.

A/N: Yes, I wrote an Aithusa story...sue me :) That thing is so darned cute! And I assigned her a gender, namely that she's a her. Thanks for reading, enjoy! I don't own!

032. Rainbow

There was a game Aithusa liked to play. Merlin had discovered it by accident, having brought some of his chores along once into the woods to meet Kilgharrah and the little white dragon. Merlin had been polishing the Arthur's sword, by hand, though the great dragon had asked him why he didn't just do it by magic; after all, no one could see him out here. He's shrugged, and said he preferred to do it manually. Though he did, at times whisper protection spells, and other enchantments into the metal as he worked.

But, on that particular day, the sun shone brightly, and a ray caught on the blade, sending a flash into Merlin's eyes, and when he jerked it went skittering away across the ground. Aithusa, which until now, had been napping lazily in the sunlight, jolted up, her quick eyes following the square of light with an almost eerie intensity. Merlin noticed, and started wobbling the sword, to make the light dance in front of the dragons nose. Her nostrils twitched, obviously wondering what this thing was that could jerk and wiggle in front of her, but leave no noise or smell.

Finally, the strain was too much, and Aithusa jumped forwards, landing on where the light square jittered. Obviously it disappeared in the shadow of her body, but Merlin soon moved it again, and then both dragon lord and dragon were involved in a game of catch and follow, Aithusa's quick reflexes nearly catching the light again and again before Merlin moved it out of the way. Kilgharrah watched with a slight growl of amusement, as the afternoon went by, the polishing rag forgotten in the grass.


	7. Sun

Title: Sun

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin does not want to be disturbed from his sunny napping place.

A/N: Another one. Still don't own Merlin or...anything really. I don't even own the computer I'm typing on.

085. Sun

Merlin lay back on the bank of grass, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight. It was warm out, and he smiled, letting his back muscles relax into the ground. It was rare that Merlin had a chance to just ...be, like this. Arthur was no where to be found, and Merlin was alone.

Footsteps broke his concentration, and he squinted one eye open to see a very familiar pair of boots come closer to the rise he lay on. Merlin's heart sank, and he quickly shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep, to prolong the moments where he could just lie there before Arthur would invariably roll him over with a boot, or toss water over him, and force him to get back to work, and stop being a lazy idiot. His limbs seemed attached to the grass, and he couldn't even fathom moving at this point, so Arthur's coming interruption was very unwelcome, and Merlin was already working himself up to being annoyed and hence annoying on the walk back to Camelot from the woods he was in. But, where was it?

That interruption never came. Instead were the sounds of Arthur sighing, grunting as he too lay on the grass at Merlin's side, and made himself comfortable. Merlin peeked his eyes open, turning his head to see Arthur with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed, and smiling in the sun.

Silence fell for a moment, as Arthur's breathing evened out, and Merlin continued to stare over at him, waiting with dread for the minute that Arthur would drag him up and set him to work. Finally, Arthur opened one eye and met his.

"Relax, Merlin. The sun is warm, and we have no where pressing to be."

Merlin's face split with a grin, and he lay back down, his eye lids glowing red against the sun when he closed them a final time.


	8. Paper Cut

Title: Paper Cut

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Magic books are dangerous.

A/N: A very short one today, but funny :)

274. Pain

"Ow!" Merlin's sudden voice from upstairs made Gaius jump, and he turned from his experiment to peer up towards the ajar door? Subsequent cursing came then to his ears, and Gaius thought he had better see what was the matter.

"Merlin?" Gaius said, coming up the stairs, and pushing open the door fully, to see his charge, wincing with his finger in his mouth, and his magic book being shoved roughly away. "What are you doing?"

Merlin grinning sheepishly, and removed his finger from between his lips.

"Paper cut."


	9. Mute

Title: Mute

Author: Arisprite

Summary: It was just an accident.

A/N: And in a completely different vein than the last one, have some angst/whump :)

* * *

><p>129. Mute<p>

It was just an accident. Nothing malicious, or evil, or predetermined. But there was a fire, and Merlin was his self-sacrificing self. He survived, but not unscathed.

"Merlin, you must try to drink this."

Merlin turned his head away, staring at a space on the floor. Gwen leaned back, blinking tears away. A noise from behind her cause her head to turn. Arthur stood in the doorway to Merlin's small room, peering in uncomfortably.

Gwen rose, and took one last glance at Merlin, seeing his pale face, and downcast eyes, before joining Arthur in the doorway.

"How is he?" Arthur murmured, and Gwen bit her lip.

"He won't drink. I don't know if it is too painful...or he's too upset."

"And he can't tell us, can he?" Arthur said, almost inaudibly. Gwen heard it, and smacked his arm.

"Arthur!" He nodded, already a shamed flush spreading.

"Sorry..."

Gwen turned back to Merlin, who sat tense and was resolutely ignoring them. She breathed out shakily.

"What does Gaius say?" Arthur then asked, worry showing in his face as he looked at his manservant. Gwen shrugged.

"He says the hot air in the fire burned his throat. Gaius doesn't know if it's permanent, or not."

Merlin in the room suddenly lay back, and turned away from them, pulling his covers up to his ears. Gwen suddenly felt ashamed, for Merlin could still hear them, and was still himself. He just couldn't talk. And they were standing around speaking about him like he was a child.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Gwen murmured, and left, before her burning eyes could betray her.

Arthur watched her go, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. He too felt the shame that Gwen had, thinking that Merlin was gone somehow, just because he couldn't make his snarky comments.

He didn't know if Merlin would want him to stay, but before he turned to go as well, Merlin flipped back over to lie on his back, and look towards the ceiling. Arthur took that as a cue to step forwards, and seat himself on the chair Gwen had vacated.

Merlin breathed deeply. It was the same sound he always made before he was about to launch into some rant, or make a comment that was probably disrespectful to someone, but never failed to be amusing. Arthur found himself waiting for the words, before his brain told him that likely those words would never come again.

Arthur frowned, and Merlin glanced over meeting his eyes for the first time since the accident. They were still the same, Merlin's eyes. Expressive as hell, and as always when he made eye contact, his meaning was perfectly clear.

_I'm still here._

Arthur smiled, huffed, and looked away, embarrassed at being caught caring. Merlin smirked, and rolled his eyes. Fondness filled his face, and Arthur thus had no choice but to reach over and ruffle Merlin's hair.

"Idiot."

Merlin's unspoken _prat _rang loud and clear.

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><p>AN: Aaannd then his voice started working again! Or perhaps he becomes the greatest mute warlock in all of Albion. I actually might continue in this AU...it'd be interesting to try out some different scenarios. Thanks!


	10. Justice

Title: Justice

Author: Arispite

Summary: Midnight thoughts which shouldn't be shared.

Warnings: SPOILERS for 4x3 The Wicked Day!

A/N: Very short tiny thing. The only thing I own is the order of the words.

203. Justice

Aside from the guilt, the pain of causing his master grief, of being the reason Arthur was shoved so quickly into the throne. Aside from the horrible feeling of being responsible for the new king's continued stance on magic (namely that it was "pure evil"). Aside from the sickening knowledge that his best friend was without a father because of his deeds.

Merlin's small, traitorous thought was that it was fitting that Uther's death came at the hands of magic.


	11. Deception

Title: Deception

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin lies.

A/N: Dialogue is fun! Still don't own.

168. Deception

"Merlin-"

"What?"

"Did you-"

"No"

"You honestly didn't see that?"

"See what, sire?"

"Merlin! It was directly in front of you, how could you not-"

"I'm afraid I don't know what it is you are talking about, sire. Is there anything else you need?"

"Okay, now I _know_ something strange is going on. You never talk like that to me?"

"Like what, sire?"

"Like..._that_! All respectful, and proper..."

"You don't want me to be respectful to you?"

"Well, of course- but you usually- Argh! Merlin! Go polish my armour!"

"Yes, sire."


	12. Beginning

Title: Beginning

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Hunith knew her baby was special.

A/N: I rather like this one. No spoilers, no slash, no ownage of Merlin...darn.

029. Beginning

Hunith knew from the time Merlin was still within her womb. _Something_ was different about her baby, there was the same kind of pulsing aura that surrounded his father, it filled her, and as her stomach grew the power grew also.

When Merlin was born, it left with him, and the first time Merlin opened his eyes, they shone gold before slowly filtering to a natural baby blue. Her baby, she knew, had magic, was magic, it fluttered through her still, recovering from the labour of bringing him to the world.

But the knowledge rested in silence, and she kept him hidden. Not to avoid the word _bastard, _like some whispered, but something infinitely worse, and more dangerous. A different word lived in her consciousness, pulsing with the threat of fire and despair.

_Sorcerer_.


	13. Peaceful

Title: Peaceful

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Arthur had said that silence would be a blessing.

A/N: This carries on from my previous ficlet "Mute" wherein Merlin has lost his voice in an accident. I don't one anything but the words, and the story arc :)

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><p>002. Peaceful<p>

Arthur had said once before that silence would be a blessing with Merlin. He was always nattering away about the strangest topics, or humming to himself, or any other number of annoying noises.

But now, it was too quiet.

Gaius had let Merlin out of his room, once the other, superficial burns had healed. At first glance, he looked perfectly fine. No visible scars remained from the fire, and he stood straight and tall, moving about with his same clumsey grace, just as always.

But hidden scars made all the difference. Now he didn't shout in alarm if he tripped over something, he didn't sing silly little songs while cleaning his armour, or scrubbing the floors. He didn't make quick come backs or private jests told in hushed whispers between the two of them.

Arthur didn't know what to do.

He'd returned from a meeting to find Merlin fiddling with his armour, sitting at the table. He hadn't yet seem Merlin up out of bed, and so it was a bit of a shock to see him here, seemingly resuming his duties.

"Merlin?"

Merlin started, and turned around. His face was pale, and tired looking, but he smiled to see Arthur. His mouth made the shape of Arthur's name, at least, that's what Arthur assumed it was, but as it had been since he woke, no sound came out. Arthur's own smile of greeting faded against his will.

"What are you doing? Should you be up?" Arthur asked, coming around to sit across from him in his big chair. Merlin's head ducked, and then he nodded vehemently, before gesturing to the armour laid out in front of him.

"Did Giaus let you out, or did you escape?" Arthur asked, a slight smile now growing as his own eyes took in the servant; his face was pale yes, but not bloodless, and it seemed to be doing him some good to be out of his little room.

Merlin smiled, and half shrugged. Arthur shook his head, amusement filling him.

Merlin resumed polishing the armour, still smiling. Arthur sat back, and contemplated the man in front of him. He'd just gone through a terrible ordeal, and he was straight back to work like nothing had happened. Merlin had received a life altering injury, and one that most if not all people would struggle to adjust to. Merlin was good at hiding his feelings, Arthur already knew that, so he was sure that Merlin wasn't as cheerful and chipper as he seemed. But he did seem to be well on his way to getting his life back. It was a little...awe inspiring.

A loud, sudden noise made Arthur jump, and he sat up straight, looking for the source. Merlin was standing across the table, his hands pressed together. He must have clapped to get his attention. Arthur had definitely been wool gathering, and he wondered how long Merlin had been trying to get his attention.

"Sorry, Merlin." Arthur leaned forwards, running a hand over his hair. "I was lost in my thoughts."

Then Arthur met Merlin's eyes, and was startled to see the flashing anger there. Merlin was standing, pole straight and tense as a bow string, fists clenched, as he glared at Arthur. Arthur was taken aback, and furrowed his brow. "Merlin?"

Merlin slapped his palm against the table, and if there were anything between his teeth, it would have been bitten in two with how tight his jaw was. Arthur was sure that if Merlin had his voice, he'd been shouting right now. Arthur just wasn't sure about what.

"What's the matter?"

Merlin threw his hands in the air, and turned abruptly. He started striding for the door, seemingly done with this. Just what this was, and how Arthur was making it worse with every word, Arthur was at a loss. But Merlin was leaving, and Arthur couldn't let that happen until he knew what was happening.

"Wait, Merlin. Wait." Arthur searched around, and on his desk was a sheet of parchment and a pen. Arthur grabbed them, and then walked over and shoved them into Merlin's hands.

"Write it down. Why are you angry, and what can I do to help?" Arthur said, and then turned to let Merlin write in private. From behind him, there came the sounds of furious scratching, and then Merlin dropped the quill pen, leaving the paper on the table as he walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

* * *

><p>AN: I know I didn't write the letter yet, I will, I promise!


	14. Suspect

Title: Suspect

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Arthur always knew there was something different about Merlin.

A/N: I don't own. A fluffy fic from a nice sounding future :)

* * *

><p>258. Suspect<p>

"Did you ever suspect?" Merlin asked Arthur. Arthur looked at him, eyes glinting in the glow of the fire, and the dim star light.

"I told you the first time I met you, there was something about you, Merlin." Arthur replied, and Merlin turned his head to meet his gaze, before Arthur turned his head to look at the sky. "But I never did think overmuch about what that something might be...All those times you were accused of magic, and I didn't even consider that they were true."

Merlin blinked at his words, feeling a small and strange hurt, familiar from years ago, when his magic was still a secret, and Arthur was a harsher man. Arthur glanced back at him, an apology on his face.

"You must understand, I couldn't comprehend the idea of your being a traitor, the magic was incidental. You've been loyal since the beginning."

Merlin snorted. "Well, not the _very_ beginning..."

Arthur smiled, still staring into the heavens. "I believe you called me an...what was it again? An ass, and a royal one."

"You were a bit of a prat, back then." Merlin replied, smiling at the sky. Arthur laughed, and Merlin did with him. "Course, not much has changed."

Merlin was seconds later his in the face with a bed roll, and he spluttered through his laughter.


	15. Future

Title: Future

Author: Arisprite

Summary: The betrayal is worse than any before it.

A/N: So I wrote a tragic adulteress!Gwen fic, and I figured I should put it up before next week. I don't really think this will ever happen. The legends are so sad sometimes.

146. Future

Merlin found Arthur in his chambers, staring out the window, where he'd often been found in times of turmoil. But this time, Merlin was almost suprised. Not because it wasn't a tulmulteous, tragic and heartbreaking time, but because it seemed too common to find Arthur, peering at the lower city from his chambers, the same he'd had since Merlin had first started working. The world had come crashing down around them, and yet things were exactly the same as the first day they met.

Gwen was...Lancelot...Merlin couldn't even think it. Not about them, neither of them. And Arthur...

Arthur was crying, Merlin realized with a jolt of ice into his stomach. Tears flowed down his face, to drip off his chin like raindrops from the eaves of a house. Merlin hadn't seen Arthur cry since his father died, years ago. It chilled him.

Merlin stepped closer, and Arthur realized he was there, making an attempt to wipe his face, and clearing his throat.

"Merlin," He said roughly, his voice shattered. Merlin felt his own eyes fill, and he stepped closer, taking the kings arms in his hands.

"Arthur, it's alright to cry." Merlin's voice broke, and a tear slid down his cheek. Arthur watched it fall, and then hung his head. A sob broke through, then another. Merlin, heart breaking for the pain his friend was in, pulled him close and let him weep. Betrayal was a terrible feeling, Merlin knew, and it wasn't the first time Arthur had experienced it. But from such a source as Gwen. Gwen who'd always been there... Merlin cried too.


	16. The Green Death

Title: The Green Death

Author: Arisprite

Summary: The monster was like nothing they'd ever seen.

A/N: So, I bought How to Train Your Dragon, and there was a part when this scene just flashed through my head. It's also set after Arthur knows about his magic for some reason. The lines belong to the movie, and Merlin belongs to BBC.

* * *

><p>The monster was like nothing they'd ever seen. Dragon like, but even Merlin's Dragonlord powers had little to no effect. Or perhaps it was just ignoring them. Huge, powerful jaws, and a solid, knobby tail swung around, crushing rocks and trees, while the men underneath tried to avoid the falling debris.<p>

The knights fought with everything they had. Arthur led them, as he had always done, their fighting king, but it was to little effect, for a man could barely get close enough to slice before they were in danger of crushing. Merlin's magic did little, even though Arthur ordered him to throw everything he had against the beast.

Then, the monster began to breath fire. A stream of flames spewed from the thing's mouth, and lit the trees behind them on fire. Enough was enough. There was a narrow escape route, a section of forest that had yet to burst into flames, and Arthur called a retreat, his voice desperate over the crackling fire.

Arthur looked to his side, and saw Merlin, were he always was, and had been for years.

"Merlin, go with the men." Arthur began to run, away from the safety of the trees, and towards the beast.

Merlin snorted. "I think I'll stay, just in case you're thinking of doing something crazy."

Arthur stopped and pointed to the dragon. "I can buy them a few minutes, if I give that thing something to hunt!"

Merlin held his hand out, an intense look in his eye. "Then I can double that time."

Arthur held his gaze for a moment, and then took Merlin's hand, shaking it. It somehow conveyed everything they ever needed to say. Then, they turned as one to the beast, and sword and magic ready, charged.


	17. Knife

Title: Knife

Author: Arisprite

Summary: There is something one must remember: Merlin lies.

A/N: I didn't like that the show states that Merlin had no memory of the time when he was enchanted with the Femorrah. It bothered me, both cause Merlin's supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer ever, as well as the fact that Merlin is Arthur's best friend, and it would go against everything he is to kill him. I wanted to see some dramatic fighting against himself type stuff...so I wrote it :) Also, I want him to remember the hug, darnit!

* * *

><p>051. Knife<p>

Merlin had lied when he said he didn't remember anything from the time he was possessed by the Femorrah. He remembered.

Much of it was a blur, simple urges and feelings that controlled his actions. Words fell from his lips, and his hands did things without his say so. Gaius told him later that he was quite rude to him and others while under it's influence.

But, he did remember parts. Crawling out of the bog, caked with mud to find Arthur and Gwaine riding towards him. The part of his mind the snake had a hold of had laughed in delight; the target of its task coming so easily closer and closer. Merlin remembered wishing he was in the habit of carrying knives. But a small part of Merlin's mind, the part that was still _Merlin_ screamed at Arthur to run, to leave him behind, to lock him up where no one could ever be hurt by him.

Arthur looked so happy to see him, his face in a wide grin. He stepped up closer, exclaiming his name. Without hesitation, Arthur pulled him into a hug, a quick but strong squeeze that betrayed Arthur's fear and relief. Merlin, the true him, was touched. The snake part laughed into Arthur's hair, and taunted Merlin with images of Arthur lying dead on the ground, at his hands.

Arthur pulled back, mud on his clothes and cheek but looking utterly happy. Merlin, trapped inside his mind, nearly wept at his helplessness to do something, to warn the king, anything!

Gwaine hugged him as well, and the snake part pulled back, disgust at the distraction from his goal. Merlin tried to hang on to Gwaine's arms as long as possible, but he seemed to have next to no control over his own body.

But. One thing he realized he still have control over was his magic. After all, one burst of magic, and Merlin could kill Arthur where he stood. Yet, the snake part of him was thinking about knives and booby traps. Perhaps, there was a way out of this. He could fight with his magic. All was not lost.

All the way home to Camelot, Merlin experimented with throwing his magic against the snake in his neck. It seemed to shiver, and Merlin felt a surge of hope. Then, it squirmed violently, and Merlin found himself much further down the road than he'd remembered being. The Femorrah fought back, taking a stronger grasp on his mind, and causing him to black out completely. Mentally panting, Merlin fell back. He had to rest.

Merlin knew they were getting closer and closer to Camelot, and closer to the time when he would, as Arthur's servant, have almost unlimited access to the king. The thought terrified him. He only hoped that Gaius or Arthur would notice that something was wrong, and restrain him, throw him in the dungeons until one of them could find a way to fix this.

For what Morgana was telling him to do was completely unthinkable.


	18. Red

Title: Red

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin looked down, and noticed a flash of red. His tunic, it was as red as the blood that had seeped from Uther's bandages, blood that was now on his hands.

A/N: I looked and looked at The Wicked Day, and I came to the conclusion that Merlin in one scene is wearing a red tunic/blue scarf combo, and in the next, the same day, is all grey. Now he could have just calmly changed into something a little more appropriate for after his best friend's father's death...but why let such a good opportunity for angst get by me? I do not own Merlin.

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><p>Not even an hour since, Uther had been declared dead. Merlin followed Gaius back to his chambers, still reeling in shock.<p>

Entering, Merlin felt words bubbling up, confusion and denial warring within him. He couldn't have done this, not something so horrible.

"The spell was working." Merlin said firmly. "I'm sure of it."

The silence stretched out and seemed to be accusing.

"I've done everything right, I don't know what happened."

Gaius was staring at something in his hand. "I think I do." Merlin looked over as Gaius turned. A silver necklace, ominous in its simplicity, lay in the old man's palm. "I found it round Uther's neck. It's been enchanted. And such an enchantment would reverse the effects of your healing spell. Uther didn't stand a chance."

A single thought ran through his head, a person the blame could be placed on with no hesitations.

"Morgana."

Gaius nodded. "I believe so." He moved away, shoulders slumping, and Merlin remembered that Gaius and Uther had been friends, of a sort.

But more pressing in Merlin's mind was Morgana yet again stealing her way into their world, and ruining all she touched.

Leaving Gaius alone, Merlin stepped up to his room, the stairs seeming unforgivably loud in the silence. He closed the door behind him, and then leaned back, exhaustion pulling him down until he sat on the ground in front of the door.

Merlin could hardly believe all that had happened that day. Was it really that morning that Arthur had sworn to him that when he was king, magic users would no longer be hunted? His heart had near overflowed with joy then. It seemed impossible that now his chest was heavy with guilt and sorrow for the pain Arthur was in, that the kingdom was in. Pain he caused.

Merlin looked down, and noticed a flash of red. His tunic, it was red as the blood that had seeped from Uther's bandages, blood that was now on his hands. His fingers touched the material, and Merlin distantly noticed that they were shaking. Suddenly, he couldn't bear to have the red cloth touching him. Didn't he have enough blood on conscience, hadn't he killed enough people? But Arthur's father dying at his hands, though a small part of Merlin's mind told him that it was Morgana's doing, it seemed a terrible sin.

Merlin gripped the homespun cloth, the crimson seeming to stain his fingers, and pulled his sharply forwards. His jacket gave him trouble for a moment, and Merlin scrambled, twisting around to get it off his shoulders, until shaking hands could pull the red shirt from over his head. Then, panting, the bloody fabric tossed across the room, Merlin knelt on his hands and knees, shirtless and shivering. He felt no different, and the flashes of red in front of his eyes were still there, taunting him. _Your fault, your fault. _

Merlin gulped a deep breath, and then another. He had to pull himself together. Arthur needed him.  
>Arthur. Merlin winced as he thought of the prince...king, now? He knew well the pain of losing a father, and Uther and Arthur had been close. Arthur was in deep sorrow right now, and Merlin was concerned only with himself. A new surge of guilt flowed over him. Merlin shook his head, lifting himself upright, still kneeling on the floor. He had to do his best to push down his guilt, and simply help Arthur through this. He could never know of his part in this.<p>

Still trembling, Merlin rose to his feet, and rooted around for a different shirt, avoiding all the red fabric he owned. A dusty grey shirt, and the blue neckerchief seemed an appropriate outfit, and Merlin pulled them on. He had to find Arthur.


	19. Once a New Dawn

Title: Once a New Dawn, Now the Darkest Night

Author: Arisprite

Summary: This time was both similar and different then before: the last time he'd waited for Arthur, the doors were opening. Now they were closed so tightly.

A/N: I had to do it. Episode tag for the latest episode, which was sadly Merlin light. I'm fine with Arthur and Gwen (and man was Bradley and Angel's acting phenomenal!), but I missed my boys :) Not meant to be slash.

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><p>The door opened slowly, painfully, revealing the heartbroken king behind it. It was so unlike the last time he'd been here, sitting outside the throne room, waiting for Arthur. So unlike, and yet so similar. Both times, Merlin's heart had ached for the pain his friend and king was enduring. Both times, he'd had to fight near tears, once for guilt, once for betrayal; trying to be strong for when Arthur appeared.<p>

It was night. The fact seemed significant. When Arthur had mourned his father, he'd opened the doors to a new dawn, the light that had streamed in had seemed to suggest a beginning. This time, Arthur shut the door on his love, the one who'd betrayed him beyond belief, and the sky was appropriately dark.

Merlin stood from his place on the floor, same as where he'd been before, watching Arthur shut the door, and lean against it. No sobs shook Arthur's shoulders, nor came the sound of tears, but Merlin knew that

Arthur's heart was ripped in two. For his own felt much the same.

Gwen was his oldest friend in Camelot; she'd been the first to approach, talking and laughing with her came easily. He'd never been so glad to see the Arthur and Gwen grow closer, and fall in love. Their approaching marriage was a joy to his soul. And then...

How could she? Everything had been fine, and then she had to ruin it all? What was she thinking? Merlin felt hurt, both on behalf of Arthur, and for himself. Did she not care about Arthur, about her friends at all, that an old attraction was more important to her?

Merlin shook his head, trying to stop these thoughts. It wasn't fair to think them, not now. He'd not been betrayed by his fiancée, the night before his wedding. Arthur had, and he needed support right now, not more condemnation. And he knew there was enchantment involved. Who was to say Gwen had even been in her right mind? Merlin swallowed, a pang of guilt hitting him for not thinking of that earlier.

Could Gwen had been enchanted to fall for Lancelot?

Merlin rubbed his face, scrubbing away the thoughts. Arthur had yet to move, and beyond the doors, Merlin imagined he could hear crying sounds from where Gwen was still within. He let out a sigh, and stepped closer to Arthur.

"Arthur," Merlin started, then stopped. He truly had no idea what he wanted to say, what he could say. There was nothing that could make the situation better, no words of comfort he could give. "Arthur..."

"Don't Merlin." Arthur turned sharply, his voice harsh. Merlin caught his first glance of Arthur's face, and saw the king's raw emotions shimmering just under the surface. Arthur was still in control, but barely.

One word could make him lose that control, and Merlin did not want to be the one that said it, not now. He closed his mouth.

Arthur met his gaze, eyes tortured, questioning, betrayed and in unimaginable pain, and Merlin had the sudden, _terrible_ thought, that there was still one betrayal in store for Arthur. If and when Merlin revealed his magic (and that possibility was looking less likely by the day) Arthur would have a similar look in his eye. After all, Gwen had broken his trust hard and fast, with one kiss. Merlin, since the day he'd met Arthur, had been simultaneously breaking and gaining the then-prince's trust. Would Arthur look like that when Merlin's lies came out?

Blinking rapidly, Merlin turned away, and Arthur, making no sound, turned down the corridor and towards his rooms. Merlin looked miserably after him, but made no move to follow.


	20. Weeks of Silence

Title: Weeks of Silence

Author: Arisprite

Summary: It was time for an intervention.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything close to Merlin. I don't even own the computer I'm typing on.

A/N: A continuation of the previous ficlets, **Mute** and **Peaceful**, wherein Merlin has lost his voice in an accident, and is struggling to deal with it. What can I say, I love torturing the poor boy...

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><p>Weeks of silence, and at last Arthur had had enough. Merlin did his duties well enough: his voice wasn't needed to make the bed, or polish armour. But Arthur watched as Merlin's life slowly fell apart, as he sank further and further in depression. Anger would still flash out at times, showing itself in a hand slapped against a table, or a fist into the wall (and from experience, Arthur knew those <em>hurt<em>), and Arthur remembered the desperate words of that first letter, saying things like _ I hate this, _but most days Merlin spent in a seeming fog, barely responding to any order or insult, simply doing what was asked and floating off. Arthur was at a loss, and though he was loath to admit it, terribly worried. It was time for something to change.

Since Gaius treated the wounds to Merlin's throat, he'd said he wasn't sure that they would be permanent. It could be that the burns and swelling were what was causing the muteness, but as the time went on, and the pain in Merlin's throat faded, he was still silent; it was looking more and more as if Merlin would never speak again. Merlin grew more despondent.

So, one afternoon, after having sent Merlin to muck out the stables, Arthur strode into Gaius' chambers, and took a seat on his usual stool. Gaius paused in his work, before resuming it, letting Arthur gather his thoughts. The soft clinking of glass vials calmed Arthur's thoughts, as it had when he was a child, and came into the physician's chambers to escape his ill liked duties, or Morgana on her worst days.

"He's never going to talk again, is he Gaius?" Arthur finally murmured, his chin in his palm. Gaius stopped fiddling with his instruments, and stared down at the table. What Arthur could see of his face was terribly sad.

"I don't believe so, sire."

Arthur let out a shaky breath with the last of his hope. Hope that Merlin would come bounding into his chambers at the crack of dawn, crowing nonsense louder than a rooster. Hope that they could again snip at each other on those long horse rides to and fro, making patrols and hunting trips less of a duty. Hope that Merlin, when things were at their darkest, would spout out some random, foolish and incredibly _wise_ thing, that would invariably save the day. None of these were possibilities now. Arthur closed his eyes, taking a moment to mourn that integral part of his friend.

Then he breathed in deep, letting it out slowly.

"So," Arthur then said, sitting up straighter. "What can we do?"


	21. ABCs

Title: ABCs

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Arthur decides to do something about it.

Disclaimer: Do I really have to write this again? You know I'm not the BBC, right?

A/N: A continuation of the previous ficlets, **Mute,** **Peaceful **and **Weeks of Silence**, wherein Merlin has lost his voice in an accident, and is struggling to deal with it. What can I say, I love torturing the poor boy... I'm also playing fast and loose with the signs, so I apologize to all who know better than me about them.

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><p>"Merlin," Sunken eyes swiveled to look at Arthur, sitting at the table. "Come here, I want to show you something."<p>

A black eyebrow rose, and Merlin left off where he was half-heartedly scrubbing at a boot, and stood. Arthur unwillingly noticed that he looked much thinner than usual, his clothes hung off him worse than a scarecrow, and his cheek bones looked about to jut out from the pale skin. Merlin shambled over to where Arthur sat, with books and papers strewn over the surface. Arthur flung out a hand.

"Take a seat."

Merlin sat, a disgruntled and confused look on his face. Arthur knew that before he would have been grumbling about something or other...but it would not do to dwell on the past.

Arthur put his fingers together, and leaned back, studying Merlin, unable to resist baiting him a bit. Merlin fidgeted under Arthur's gaze, and Arthur saw the exact moment when his nervousness and uncomfortableness became anger; Merlin's face was surprisingly easy to read, when one knew what to look for. Arthur had never noticed before.

Arthur looked away before Merlin got really angry, spreading his hands over the books.

"I've been doing a bit of reading." Merlin snorted, and Arthur had to fight a smile at the familiar response. "Don't look like that Merlin, I know what you want to say, and shut up."

Merlin's fingers scrabbled for a lead stick, and a scrap of parchment (Arthur had taken to leaving such things around in easy access, for they were Merlin's only form of communication...currently).

_Not that I can actually say it. _ Merlin wrote out, a bitter look on his face. Arthur sighed, wanting to get back on his task.

"You thought it though. Now, as I was saying, I've been reading up on hand signals. Namely, ones used for communication."

A look of understanding was beginning to show on Merlin's face, and Arthur pressed on.

"There are books that outline full alphabets, and other signals that can all be used to say what ever comes into that head of yours."

Arthur finished, sitting back with pride at finding a solution to the matter at hand. Merlin, however, looked anything but happy. In fact, he was shaking his head.

"What's the matter?"

Merlin scribbled on the parchment, before shoving it over to him.

_What's the point if no one else can understand it?_

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'll be learning it with you, Merlin. And Guinevere, Gaius and the knights and anyone else who cares to try. It can't be that hard."

Another furious scribble. _It's a whole other language! _

Arthur shrugged. "It might take some work, but..." Arthur trailed off as he saw Merlin shaking his head petulantly. "What? You don't want to?"

Merlin looked away, staring at the ground.

"Why not?"

An angry breath, and Merlin clenched his fingers together.

"Do you want to be stuck scribbling things on paper for the rest of your life?" Arthur grabbed Merlin's parchment, and waved it around. " I'm trying to help you talk!"  
>Merlin flinched, and stood from the table, nearly knocking his chair backwards.<p>

"Merlin!" Arthur stood too, gripping the edge of the table. "What's your problem?"

All of a sudden, Merlin whirled around, grabbing one of the books, and hurling it across Arthur's chambers, sending it skidding to the floor. The stack of papers followed suit, and then the last book flew, hitting the wall with a crack. Arthur watched this display of temper slack jawed; he'd never seen Merlin loose control like this. Finally, breathing hard, Merlin sank to the floor, bending over his knees. He wasn't quite sobbing, but Arthur still approached warily; the threat of tears still frightening to him, since the years of growing up with Morgana, and knowing tears meant he was about to get punished.

Merlin seemed to be calming now, as Arthur stepped closer, grabbing the scrap of paper and lead from off the table as he went. Slowly he knelt in front of Merlin, and pushed the paper towards him. Merlin's shaking fingers took them from him, and held on.

"I want to help you." Arthur said softly, his earlier anger and frustration gone in the wake of Merlin's rage.

Merlin sucked in a shaky breath, and then wrote out a single sentence.

_If I learn, it's real..._

Arthur's eyes widened. Of course. Merlin was still living in the hope that his voice would return. Arthur imagined him each morning trying to speak, and each day being met with disappointment. He bowed his head for a moment.

"Merlin...you may never speak again, but I'll tell you now. You're still Merlin. Not being able to speak doesn't change anything, not anything that matters."

Merlin looked up at him, still hunched over, but listening. Arthur didn't know what else to say, but suddenly he remembered one of the signs he'd practiced before calling Merlin. He did it, a sharp move to his head, his lips quirking in a smile. Merlin, curiosity getting the better of him, even as a knowing look filled his eyes, mouthed 'what?'

"It means 'idiot', idiot." Arthur said, ruffling Merlin's hair. Merlin snorted, the only sound of amusement he could still make, and it made Arthur laughed out loud.  
>Then standing, he put down a hand and lifted his mute manservant off the floor.<p>

"Now, will you at least try?" Arthur said, scooping up one of the books, and wincing internally at the damage to the binding. Geoffrey was going to kill him. Merlin, scuffing his boot against the ground, slowly nodded. Arthur smiled in response.

"Good. We'll start with the A-B-Cs."


	22. Hug?

Title: Hug?

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin gets what he asked for

A/N: I had to write my own version after the **Herald of a New Age. **Look, a non- angsty post ep!

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><p>Merlin saw Arthur coming towards him in a decidedly threatening manner. He thought it might be a good idea to run. Merlin dropped his outspread arms, and turned but wasn't quick enough before Arthur's arm encircled his neck, not in a hug, as he'd been teasing, but in a rough headlock. Merlin squawked in protest, but Arthur only held on tighter.<p>

"How's that for a hug, Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head, trying to wriggle away.

"I think you need to work on your interpersonal skills."

"Oh?" Arthur said, voice dripping with mock surprise. Then he rubbed his fist into the top of Merlin's head.

"Ah, alright, alright," Merlin struggled. "You win." Merlin jerked, and got away, tripping around the edge of the desk. There was a wide grin on his face, and it matched the one on Arthur's. For a moment, Merlin forgot about destiny, danger, magic and everything that weighed down on his shoulders. He forgot about king and servant, and plots, evil sisters, and absent friends. They were just Merlin and Arthur. Friends.


	23. Gloves

Title: Gloves

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Winters in Camelot are cold.

A/N: And more fluff from me. What is going on? Haha, I was quite cold one day (most days) so I decided to inflict the same on Merlin and Arthur. Then this happened.

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><p>The <em>scritch<em> of a quill against parchment sent a frisson of tension down Merlin's spine. It didn't help his shivering any. He looked up from clumsy sewing and glared at Arthur, over behind his desk. The king was seated regally, going through paperwork on the various comings and goings of the kingdom. Well, as regally as one could be when one was wrapped up in various furs and blankets, wearing a scarf and gloves-hence the fumbling of the quill pen. Arthur did not look up at Merlin's displeased look, hunched intently over the scrolls, staring at it with eyes wide open in the way a person does when trying not to fall asleep.

It was dead winter in Camelot, and Arthur was finding kingly duties during the long bleak months of snow, just as or more boring than princely ones. Arthur had been a complete bear each winter Merlin had been in Camelot, whinging, grumping, and just being a general nuisance. The result of too much energy and no way to work it off. This winter he'd been a bit better, probably thinking that as king he needed to set a better example. Merlin was grateful, whatever the reason.

That didn't mean he wasn't still annoying on these quiet, cold nights. Though that could have been Merlin's general bad mood in the winter as well.  
>Merlin was hunched by the fireplace, mending a coat to the best of his abilities while his fingers were nearly completely numb. He had almost his entire bedclothes wrapped around him; it was the only way he could survive facing the elements of the courtyard to make it to Arthur's chambers and back. A wool scarf wrapped his neck twice, and he wore basically every scrap of clothing he possessed. And it was still freezing.<p>

He scooted closer to the fire, until he was nearly sitting in it. Merlin was just contemplating if he could use magic in any way to make the room warmer at all, when Arthur plopped down beside him.

"Budge up, Merlin. You're taking all the heat." Arthur inched closer to the fire, his shoulder against Merlin's. Merlin shivered at the draft Arthur had caused.

"What heat?"

Arthur huffed, lips quirking as he held out his hands. "Bloody paperwork," Merlin heard him mutter.

"At least you've got gloves..." Merlin muttered, dropping the coat with the needle still in it, and likewise spreading his pale fingers towards the flames. The tips were white with chill. Arthur eyed them, next to his own gloved hands.

"Well, buy some. I pay you enough." Arthur said, shifting. Merlin shrugged, and he felt Arthur's arm move with him.

"I send most of it to my mother." Merlin said. Arthur sat in silence for a moment, before suddenly standing, tossing his extra furs over Merlin's head obnoxiously. Merlin smiled, and extricated his head from the blankets, causing his hair to stick up in clumps. Then he had to blink at what Arthur was holding out to him.

Arthur tossed a pair of gloves onto his lap, before retaking his place by the fire, wrapping up firmly again. Merlin picked them up, and saw that it was an old pair of Arthur's; still in good condition, and the soft leather was lined inside with white fur.

A smile lit Merlin's face. He pulled them on. They were slightly big in the hand, and short in the fingers, but already Merlin could feel the warmth against his skin.

"Thank you," Merlin said, glancing over at Arthur, who was sat uncomfortably, almost leaning away. Arthur relaxed almost imperceptibly, and Merlin's smile widened.

Arthur smirked, and leaned towards Merlin to shove him, shoulder to shoulder. "Can't have my servant's little fingers getting cold."

"Actually," Merlin said, rocking sideways in the force of Arthur's shove, before sitting up and holding his now comfortably warm hands out, "I think it's your fingers that are little. It's a bit short in the fingertips..."

"Shut up, Merlin."


	24. Life in a Box

Title: Life in a Box

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin's thoughts take a turn for the morbid. Arthur is not amused.

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC and the Shine, and the entirety of the dialogue is from Tom Stoppard's "Rosencranz and Guildenstern Are Dead".

A/N: I honestly don't know what this is. Utterly silly, and I've stolen the dialogue directly from the above mentioned movie. If you've never seen it, I HIGHLY recommend it. An existential, rambling version of Hamlet, told from two minor characters and which pokes fun at life, death and everything in between. I adore it. This was also written and posted quite fast, much faster than normal for me, so just take it as a silly little exercise, mistakes and all.

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><p>"Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?"<p>

Merlin's question broke the heavy stillness that filled the cell. Arthur gave Merlin a look, shook his head, rattling the chains that encircled his wrists.

"No."

"Nor do I, really." Merlin replied, looking towards the ceiling. Indeed there were not many other places he could look, the whole of the stone hole they were in was the same grey, and dripping with moisture. Mold and moss spread on the walls and the bars though rusted were still as solid as ever—Arthur had checked.

If there ever was a place to think about being dead, it would be a cell such as this, especially considering the type of person that put our heroes within it. Merlin and Arthur were not quite sure how they had ended up chained and starved in a damp prison; something to do with bandits and ransom, it wasn't quite clear. But, it had been sure that they meant them harm, what with the beating and the cold and chains. Merlin was definitely justified in letting his mind rest on the after.

"Silly to be depressed by it." Merlin then continued, taking Arthur's lack of response as encouragement. "I mean, one thinks of it as being alive in a box. One keeps forgetting to take into account the fact that one's dead, which should make all the difference, shouldn't it?"

Arthur looked over at his servant askance, but as his hands were chained he had to refrain from any physical violence.

"I mean, you'd never know you were in a box. It'd be just like being asleep in a box." Merlin then thought that he ought to qualify that statement, he never knew when he might be putting ideas into Arthur's head. "Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you. Not without any air. You wake up dead, for a start, and then where would you be?"

"In a box!" Merlin answered his own question when it was clear Arthur would not. "That's the bit I don't like. That's why I don't think of it."

Arthur had decided that Merlin would ramble, and was thusly ignoring him. However, when Merlin fell silent for a moment, he breathed out in quiet gratitude. Until…

"Cause you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that. You'd be in there forever, even taking into account that fact that you're dead, it isn't a pleasant thought. Especially if you're dead really."

Arthur leaned his head back against the wall, determinably not thinking about the slime that was bleeding into his hair at the action. Merlin lifted his own head, getting more comfortable against the stone.

"Ask yourself, if I asked you straight off, "I'm going to stuff you in this box now, would you rather be alive or dead?" Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all, I expect. You'd have a chance at least. You could lie there thinking, "Well, at least I'm not dead. In a minute, somebody's going to bang on the lid, and tell me to come out."

Merlin took a fist and knock against the stone, making a dull thudding that was more vibrations than actual noise. He didn't mind.

"Hey you! What's your name? Come out of there!" Merlin said in a odd voice, still pretending to be the rescuer for the hypothetical person stuffed in a box. His voice was loud, and left a ringing silence. Arthur had long since given up trying to ignore Merlin, and was staring at him, expressionless and silent. Merlin swallowed, and leaned his head back again.

Then after a long moment, Arthur spoke. "I think I'm going to kill you." His voice was matter of fact, and took no notice of the chains, the cell or the capturers. Merlin, drawing his gaze from the ceiling for the first time, looked over at the prince, but said nothing more.


	25. Energetic

Title: 180. Energetic

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Merlin is quite good at his new form of communication; Arthur less so.

A/N: The saap! Haha, here is what is probably the end of the Mute!Merlin stories. AH, I have enjoyed them :) I do not own Merlin, and forgive the utterly lazy signing descriptions. I mean no offence.

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><p>Merlin took to the signing like a fish to water. Arthur was hard pressed to keep up with him, for once Merlin got the basics down, his fingers never stopped.<p>

"Alright, Merlin. Let's see if I have this now." Arthur made a series of gestures that ended with a string of letters.

Merlin fell over laughing, nearly knocking over the stacks of books that surrounded them, sitting on the floor of Arthur's chambers. Merlin's laugh since the accident, when Arthur heard it, was a strange silent panting. However, Merlin was still able to convey his amusement, and Arthur grumbled as it was evident something had gone wrong.

"What did I do?" Arthur asked, long-suffering. Merlin, still shaking with laughter, did two signs in quick succession. One Arthur recognized as _Prince_ the other as Arthur's first sign, the one he'd shown Merlin first. _Idiot_. Then Merlin alternated his hands, moving them back and forth, and Arthur found himself reddening.

"I mixed them up?"

Merlin nodded, a grin plastered on his face. Arthur groaned, and put his face in his hands. Instead of introducing himself as Prince Arthur, apparently, he'd said 'My name is Idiot Arthur.' "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

Merlin shook his head firmly, and did the sign again: idiot, followed by the spelling of Arthur's name. Then he laughed again.

"I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself." Arthur muttered, though in truth he really was. Merlin had been so down since losing his voice, it was good to see him laughing, and having fun.

Merlin then did another string of signs, and Arthur shook himself to pay attention. At least, since he could speak, he didn't have to worry as much at being able to reproduce the signs, though he did try his best. He mostly had to be able to recognize them, for Merlin was getting better and better at communicating in the fashion.

He still carried a bound book of blank paper, and a lead stick, in order write down his thoughts as well as talk to the general public. But with Arthur, he mostly spoke in the signing, and was patient with Arthur when he asked him to repeat or slow down.

Merlin finished his signs, and Arthur smiled when the meaning became clear.

_Thank you for giving me a way to laugh again._


End file.
